Used To Love You
by ImaginedElegance
Summary: One year after her marriage, Byleth struggles with the realization that she is no longer in love with Sylvain. Story takes place after the Blue Lions route and will contain spoilers for some of the events that occurred during the war.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey, everyone! This is my first Fire Emblem story so I hope you all enjoy it. Let me know what you think; I'm very open to constructive criticism. Thank you!**

With the defeat of Edelgard, an era of peace settled over the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Dimitri rose to meet his destiny, working tirelessly to unify all of Fódlan and maintain the vision he had fought so hard for. Likewise, Byleth faced her own calling. She returned to Garreg Mach as the new archbishop. Within a few days of taking up her position, she was visited by Sylvain.

His usual composure melted away at the sight of her. He fumbled through a proposal, blushing, stuttering, avoiding her cold eyes. But she accepted him in spite of this. She knew she had fallen for him over the course of the war. If she could trust him to come riding in and swinging his lance around to save her from a grave tactical error, she could trust him with anything. Expecting a prosperous marriage, they arranged the ceremony quickly, under the Wyvern Moon.

Their intimate relationship was kicked off with a large wedding, the most significant event of the year after the war ending of course. Held at Garreg Mach Monastery, all of their friends made time for the trip, even Felix. Although he was still struggling with his responsibilities as Duke Fraldarius and coping with the ramifications of his father's sacrifice, he congratulated the bride with more energy than she had ever seen from him.

Byleth smiled as she thought back to those happier times. How Dimitri had toasted their union with a rare joke. _Very fitting that only a woman as gifted as our professor would be able to tie him down_. His words echoed in her mind until her heart ached. She glanced to the ring on her finger. The emerald taunted her. Empty promises…

The door to her office opened without a warning knock. She raised her eyes to meet her husband's. It took all her restraint to hold back her sigh.

"Are you coming to bed?" he asked, seeming to ignore all of the papers that she had piled in front of her.

Rhea had left more than enough unfinished business behind her. And there were letters to answer, church functions to arrange, keeping an eye on the Monastery reconstruction and its newest batch of students, not to mention all the reports of bandits. Her husband had made things infinitely harder on her by demanding that she live with him in Gautier territory. He didn't understand.

"No," she said. She gestured vaguely to the mountains of documents. "I'm very busy."

Sylvain frowned. His eyes found something on the floor to capture his attention. Byleth almost groaned. All she wanted was to be left alone with her work, but like the plague of old, he lingered. Perhaps there was a magical solution then.

"I just want to know what's going on." His voice wavered but he found it in himself to continue his complaint. "We've barely been married a year and yet… Why did everything fall apart when my father died?"

"You want to know why?" She stood up, her chair clattering to the floor at the violence of her action. Sylvain flinched. "You expected me to take up your birthright with you. I'm to be your perfect wife. Solely focused on aiding you in your goals. Submissive to you. If that's what you were looking for, perhaps you should have pursued Mercedes."

"Byleth… I never meant to…"

"You married the archbishop. I have my own responsibilities that you have attempted to interfere with at every turn." Her face burned with the anger she had been pushing down for so long.

Sylvain raised his hands in surrender. The last thing he wanted in that moment was to get into another argument. He waited until Byleth's ranting about his disrespect and refusal to support her had died down. When she laid everything out for him, he understood where her frustration was coming from. He couldn't believe he had made her feel so horribly.

"My love," he said, cautiously moving around the desk. He pulled his wife into his arms, holding her head against his chest, "I have been unfair to you. In my grief, I neglected my duties as your husband. Let me swear to you now that I will improve. I will do anything to make you happy. But I must also insist you get some rest sometimes. You've been working too much lately. And I understand the need for your dedication, I promise. You just need to let me take care of you. Just a little."

She pushed herself out of his grasp. Finally, he was listening to her. Deep down, she knew it wouldn't last. She knew he would fall back into old habits. He always did. For now, she accepted his apologies and let him lead her out of her office. Maybe he was right to suggest that she was working too hard. The burden was making her irritable. Perhaps that was the true cause of their marital strife. She shook the thought away. That couldn't be true.

In the morning, she rolled out of an empty bed. She needed to get back to her work. When Sylvain had interrupted her the night before, she had just gotten to an interesting report. The slaying of a minor noble in the former Alliance territories. It was probably just a robbery gone wrong, but a feeling of dread nagged her.

The manor house swirled with fresh air from the open windows, but otherwise, the whole place was still. No servants, no mother-in-law, and no Sylvain. She frowned thoughtfully. In the year and two months since her wedding, Byleth had never had a break from her family and the multitude of retainers, maids, housekeepers. If she had known that the life of a noble would be so overwhelming, she wouldn't have let her husband pressure her into it. She could almost see the happy life she could've had at the Monastery slipping away from her like smoke into the sky.

Her office was exactly as she left it, with the exception of a note on her desk. She set her chair on its legs and sat down. The note had sloppy penmanship. It was from Sylvain. She didn't need to see his signature to know.

"Dearest Byleth," she read aloud, "I have business in Sreng and will be gone for the week. I gave the help paid leave and sent my mother on vacation to Derdriu." She tossed the letter in the trash bin, not bothering to read all of it. His flowery expressions of love, once endearing, now sickened her. Although she wasted no time diving into work, the back of her mind brought back the usual questions.

Why was she still doing this? Why stay with him?

She shoved these thoughts aside as best as she could. She couldn't dwell on her problems when the entire continent depended on her for guidance and divine protection.

Without the burden of her husband's expectations, she was free to work as long as she pleased, wherever she pleased. And in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to return to Garreg Mach. It had been months since she'd been allowed to pay a visit. Writing letters was tedious, but reading Seteth's ranting responses was an even greater annoyance.

Hastily, she gathered up all her important reports and letters. She would be gone when Sylvain returned. And maybe she would never come back.


	2. Chapter 2

Arriving at Garreg Mach brought about more chaos than Byleth had expected. Seteth fretted over her wind-tangled hair and the shadows that accentuated her green eyes. Mercedes scheduled tea and prayer. And Flayn, Goddess bless her, wanted to show Byleth all that she had learned in the time they'd been apart. The new students also jumped at the chance to show off to the archbishop.

The first free moment she managed to squeeze in was immediately snatched up by Manuela. She grabbed Byleth's arm and dragged her to the infirmary. When they were alone, Manuela sat the archbishop down on the bed.

"You'll never believe what Hanneman said to me the other day," she said, crossing her arms and frowning. "He said that he can see how the war has affected me. That means I must look old. How dare he! I spent the rest of the day looking for wrinkles and of course, now my students are saying I'm neglecting them. It's really unbelievable."

Byleth sighed. The one thing she didn't miss at the Monastery was being drawn into the petty arguments between the two professors. "Well, I don't know what he meant by saying that, but I'm sure it had nothing to do with your appearance. You look just as good as always, I promise."

That seemed to appease her. She smiled and went on talking, changing the subject to a date that went surprisingly well. They'd even planned to go out again. He was dashing, successful, really knew how to treat a woman. By the end of her gushing, she was practically glowing. Byleth couldn't help but feel a stab of discomfort. Had she ever talked about Sylvain that way?

"You look troubled," Manuela said, her joy fading into concern.

"I'm just tired," she replied as she stood up and stretched. "I haven't been paid this much attention in a while." A tight bark of laughter forced its way out of her lips. She flinched as it landed in her own ears. Hopefully her companion didn't notice how painful it sounded.

"Oh, of course! I'm so sorry, Archbishop," Manuela said. She stood up after a pause. "It was a long journey and now, to be swarmed by everyone here… You must be exhausted. Go get some rest. I wouldn't want to have you confined to the infirmary so soon. Unless you want to be." She winked.

They shared a chuckle. This time, it was a genuine expression on Byleth's end. It had been too long since she had joked around with anyone. With Sylvain, things just weren't funny anymore. Anything he said was a distraction from the mountains of work she had. But here, spending time with friends was almost as refreshing as it was tiring.

Manuela's expression grew grave as Byleth was preparing to leave. "Before you go… You should know that attendance is growing again."

It took her a second to register the meaning of the professor's words. "The class sizes are getting too big?"

"Yes. As it is, it's a bit difficult to find the time for one on one training."

"I'll speak with Seteth and make the necessary arrangements," she said then hurried off before Manuela could say anything else.

Seteth hadn't mentioned needing a new professor in his letters. Maybe he was being willfully ignorant or perhaps he didn't want to trouble her with such mundane tasks. But she remembered the year that she had taught there too well. Tomas, Jeritza, Monica… She couldn't suppress her shudder.

She shut herself away in her bedroom – the same one Rhea had used all those years ago. Though Rhea's personal effects had been removed, it didn't always feel like the former archbishop was really gone. At times, Byleth was compelled to knock before entering. Just in case, by some miracle, she would be there. She longed for the days when she was merely a professor, seeking and obtaining the validation of the most important woman in Fódlan.

With a sigh, she put herself to bed.

As much as she needed to restore her energy levels, she was plagued by the usual nightmares. She could only remember flashes of moments. Sothis shaking her head. Jeralt falling to the grass. Kronya's wicked smile. The usual imagery. Somewhere along the way, Sylvain had become part of it. Just watching her as the darkness swallowed her up.

In the morning, she was more tired than she had been when she first fell asleep. But still she attended to her duties as if she had slept easily. She smiled, chatted, worked diligently, pushing her dreams as far away as she could. And she kept pushing, until the students, knights, and monks were all satisfied. She'd saved her business with Seteth for last. Convincing him to turn over the professor selection to her care would be a difficult task. She wondered if he ever felt at fault for what happened…

"Hello, Professor!" Mercedes's voice rang out from the other side of the cathedral.

Byleth cringed deep beneath the surface of her composure. She remembered the words she had said to Sylvain in anger. The implications of her words… She wondered how she had ever found it acceptable to be so cruel to a dear friend. Mercedes had overcome the burdens her family placed upon her and now, she thrived, living a reality that had once only been a dream. A wish.

"Have you come here to pray again?" Mercedes asked. She met Byleth at the room's halfway point and beamed. "I just finished helping some lovely people with theirs. Can I help you too?"

"Oh, no, I was told Seteth was here," she said. The priestess's face fell and that guilt squeezed her heart until she made a move to rectify the earlier betrayal of trust. "However… I have a bit of time. Why don't we make quick prayers then go to tea?"

Mercedes agreed, her smile returning as she clasped her hands. Byleth mimicked the pose. In her mind, she repeated her usual wishes. Protection and good fortune for all of Fódlan. When she finished, Mercedes was still praying so she waited until the woman finished.

They strolled down to the dining hall, speaking about nothing important, each simply glad to be in the company of the other. Byleth fetched the tea pot while Mercedes picked out the type of tea. It was a floral black tea that she was convinced the archbishop would love. Once the tea was ready, they set up at a table outside to continue catching up.

"I wanted to let you know how proud I am of you," Byleth said. She sipped her tea to distract herself from her own unease. "I probably didn't say it enough as your professor. But I really am proud of you for everything you've achieved. And I'm so glad we're friends."

"Thank you! It's so nice to hear you say that," she replied. Though her voice was happy, her frown betrayed her underlying doubts. She knew her former professor could sense something was bothering her so she made no further move to hide it. "I'm so grateful but… What brought this on?"

Byleth laughed once. She couldn't stop it but as soon as it was out, she felt a wave of relief wash over her. "I suppose I've been caught. Sylvain and I had an argument and I said something I shouldn't have. It was unfair and untrue so I needed to correct it."

"Again?" Mercedes asked. When Byleth nodded, she continued. "He wrote me a few times, asking for help. I didn't know what to tell him so I've just been praying for you two."

They sat in silence for a while, drinking tea, not making eye contact. Byleth hadn't known that Sylvain had exposed their issues to their friends. If he didn't hold back, then she didn't have to either. And yet, something restrained her tongue. She waited for Mercedes to say something else, give her insight into her conversations with Sylvain. But the priestess seemed just as expectant.

"Maybe if you gave me your side, I could help," she prompted.

"I don't think I can." Byleth finished her tea and set the cup down on the table with a sharp clink. "What did he say?"

"Oh, well…" Mercedes said, voice a murmur, looking away. "You should speak with him. It isn't my place to tell you what he wrote."

"Always so reasonable," she said. She let a heavy silence settle over them as she wondered what her husband had told their friend. In her mind, he didn't have much to complain about. The things he had done… Maybe he didn't know any better but was that an excuse? "I suppose I can say that I've been feeling that my responsibilities aren't important to him."

Mercedes nodded knowingly. She didn't have to say anything. It was like a dam had broken down and all of the things Byleth couldn't say out loud just flowed from her lips. The offhanded comments about being too serious, too independent, unavailable when he wanted her. The 'misplaced' reports. The time he'd put his hands on her in frustration.

"It's a constant power struggle between us," she said, pouring herself another serving of tea. Her eyes didn't cry but her hands shook as she took a long gulp of the now-cold drink.

"He admitted all of that to me," Mercedes said. She watched Byleth for a moment with a thoughtful frown. "I know that he's been trying to fix things but he's said you won't work with him. You don't have to, of course. You could decide right here that he can't be forgiven and I would help you with ending your marriage."

Byleth shook her head. An official divorce was not an option for her. Not right then, anyway. As the archbishop, she needed to be a role model for all of Fódlan. They all looked to her for hope. And if she left her husband, she wondered how many would lose faith in the sacred ceremony.

"If separating from him isn't an option, then you need to work things out. Come to some agreement," Mercedes said. "Forgive me for saying it but, you never really had an example to follow. You never saw your parents living together, fighting, solving their problems. They never had the chance to teach you how to be married."

Before Byleth had the time to think through a response, she noticed Seteth across the lawn, scrambling to keep pace with one of the Knights of Seiros. She remembered the business she'd needed to discuss with him rather urgently.

"I'm sorry. I have to go," she said, springing to her feet. "We'll talk about this again soon." Then, without hearing Mercedes's reply, she hastened off after Seteth.


End file.
